Chapter Eighteen

The hand smelled dank like sea and tar, and Tessa clamped her teeth down into the palm.

"Bloody hell," the voice hissed, and Tessa's pounding heart lurched, her rigid body going slack.

"Eagan?" she said, but the sound that came through the bloody hand against her mouth was muffled. She turned out of his arms, staring with wide eyes at the only person she wanted to see.

He held the finger of his unbitten hand to his lips. Grabbing a rag from the washbasin, Tessa grabbed his hand, pressing it against the bite. Her other hand went to his cheek, her face full of unsaid apologies. For leaving without saying goodbye. For having a father who might be a terrible person. For biting him like a trapped wildcat.

Eagan was damp and windblown, the hair around his face curling in wild disarray. He brushed her hair back from her face. "Are ye well?" he whispered.

She nodded and leaned into his ear. "How are you here?"

He did the same, his breath tickling. "Grissell came to us, said Jandeau was taking ye and her three children."

Tessa's breath caught. "Children?"

"Bann, Grace, and Charlotte."

Tessa's fingers clenched into his damp tunic, and she shook her head. "No. He said he'd leave them if I went with him quickly."

Eagan's eyes closed for a moment, and he exhaled. "He lies, Tessa. Grissell watched the children taken from their beds after ye'd been rowed across."

Her legs felt weak, and she pressed a hand against her lips. Would her meal come up? She turned and lowered onto the edge of the bed, trying to breathe through the nausea. Sia came up to sniff at her pocket, and she mindlessly drew out the bits of meat for her.

Eagan crouched before Tessa, whispering. "I ran to a rowboat I had set behind Grissell's cottage. I knew he'd come back. I should have been with ye."

She met his gaze, her voice certain. "If you had, you'd be dead, Eagan. He had two rowboats of men."

His eyes were dark in the lamplight. "I should have convinced ye to stay at Gylin."

She shook her head. "I still…" She wanted to say that she still had hope that he was wrong about her father, but her conviction was crushed. Her hand went to her locket, holding its jagged form. He'd taken Grace, Bann, and Charlotte. Mon Dieu.

"The others are following in Beck's Carrack ship. I didn't wait for them to board and push off. As it was, the Borreau 's sails were being raised when I tied to a line off the stern. I then had to figure out where he was keeping ye. I heard a meow." He glanced at Sia, who sat on the bed. "I was hoping the children would be with ye."

"I didn't even know they were on board."

The waves under the ship rose and fell, and the wind raged against the portholes of the small cabin. Where were the children being kept? They must be terrified.

Footsteps passed overhead, and Eagan pulled a long dagger from a sheath tied to his chest. The ship tossed, jarring her and making her stomach twist with nausea. The wind blew across the small hatch in her ceiling that allowed in fresh air. It also let in voices.

"The little girl is too young even for my tastes," said one of the crewmen as he walked by the porthole.

"How about the older one? She's got paps you can bury your face in."

Tessa's breath caught, her fingers curling into the quilt.

"Aye, but she's covered with the lad's puke."

"Pull her out in this rain. It'll wash her clean enough to fuck."

The first man laughed over the wind. "And have the captain slice my throat for lowering her value at auction."

Whatever else they said was lost under the lashing rain, and they stomped away. Cold slid along Tessa's skin like the hand of death stroking her. They must be talking about Bann, Grace, and Charlotte. Not that Grissell or Eagan would lie, but here was proof. Bann couldn't even swing on a rope without feeling ill from the back-and-forth motion. "Mon Dieu," she whispered and let Eagan gather her in his arms.

On occasion when the opportunity presents itself. 'Tis quite a lucrative business.

Meow . Sia slid against her back as if to give comfort. Grissell was right. Eagan was right. Tessa ran her thumb over her smashed locket. Her mother had been deceived.

Captain Claude Lemaire was indeed a monster.

…

Eagan wanted to grab Tessa, toss her overboard, and row her as far away as he could from Jandeau and the vicious pirates who made up his crew. But not without the children and not in the storm.

His hand ached from her bite, but he couldn't blame her. He'd have struck out with whatever weapons he had if he'd been grabbed. Eagan went to the washstand to clean the wound better and then he'd think of a way to get everyone off this ship from Hell.

Tessa came closer, helping him tie a clean strip of linen around his palm. "I'm so sorry, Eagan. I'd been raised to believe my father was a good man. I didn't want to believe you." The shock of what she'd learned about Jandeau was still obvious in her tone.

Eagan slid his palm along her cheek. "We all want to believe our families are good. My father struggled with what his grandfather did. All the Macquaries have."

Swinging lamplight flashed along her pinched face. "My mother had hope that he had goodness within him, but whatever was there is lost."

Light and shadows swayed with the small room. Eagan pulled Tessa to him, hugging her close, wishing he could pull her into the protection of his body. As if they could become one. He'd never felt the need to protect so strongly before. He was the lone wolf, protesting whenever his family said he must always be connected to people, saying that since losing his twin in the womb, he must always want companionship. He'd fought his whole life to prove them wrong. But now… Right there, he'd throw all of that away if he could just be with Tessa. If he could pull her inside and keep her safe.

His lips opened. Will you marry me? Stay with me? sat on his tongue. But the ship dipped in the trough of a wave, and he swallowed the words down.

"Bann must be so sick," Tessa said, pulling away. "He gets motion sick just swinging on rope."

Eagan released her, his hand running up his forehead to scratch his damp hair. "We need to break out of here and find them."

Tessa tested the latch on the door without making a sound. She shook her head when she turned to meet his gaze.

Bloody hell. The door had been unlocked when he'd followed the sound of Sia. But now he'd have to use force to open it, which might be noticed even with the storm raging around them.

He walked back to her. "Let's make our plans through the night and act when someone comes to open the door in the morn."

"We can work together," Tessa said, a question in her tone.

Eagan looked deeply into her eyes and allowed the corner of his lips to pinch upward. "Someone once told me doing things alone can be satisfying but doing things with another pulls on two sets of strengths."

Tessa's mouth relaxed. "That together we can do more than apart."

"Wise words."

She smiled, and he began to scan the contents of the room. "Let's construct our plan of attack."

Tessa nodded, her smile sharpening into determination. "I have poison."

…

Rap. Rap. Rap.

Tessa shot up out of sleep, and Sia leaped silently to the top of an empty bookcase. For a moment, Tessa didn't know where she was, even though she felt the heavy oppression of fear and fury like a crushing blanket.

Eagan? Her gaze snapped around the room until it landed on him standing just inside the privacy screen in the corner. He nodded to her, and Tessa pushed out of the bed. With the storm still blowing, 'twas impossible to know the time, but it was past dawn.

"Mademoiselle Claudette," a voice called through the door. "I'm coming in if you're decent."

Did the crew think she slept naked? She'd only changed out of the rich gown that she'd worn for dinner into her regular woolen ensemble.

She said nothing and listened as the key turned in the lock. A medium-sized man stood in the door holding a tray with what looked like bread, cheese, and fruit compote. He had close-cut brown hair and a beard that looked recently trimmed. He was wiry and moved from foot to foot as if he were ready to bolt or had to piss.

His eyes were lowered. "Are you dressed, Mademoiselle?"

"Oui."

He looked up timidly as if she were tricking him and a breast might be sticking out of her bodice. He exhaled when he saw her completely and modestly dressed. "If I was to see you naked," he said, "the captain would probably carve my eyes out."

She walked closer to him, which made him push the door shut behind him just like she'd wanted. "Does my father do that often? Cut people's eyes out?"

"Oh…I…umm… I'm fairly new to the crew, but I've heard stories."

"And you are?"

"Hubert Lautrec." He nodded in greeting and strode to the small table bolted to the floor, setting the tray there. A clamp was on the tray, and he screwed it in place to keep the tray from sliding off with the rocking ship. Eagan remained behind the screen, giving her time to dig some information out of the man.

Tessa eyed the unlocked door. "Hubert?"

"Oui?"

"Where are the three children imprisoned on this ship?"

His gaze snapped up to hers and then he looked back down. "We don't discuss our cargo on the Bourreau , Mademoiselle. The captain would cut out my tongue."

"Mon Dieu! Does the captain take enjoyment from cutting things off people? Tongues? Eyes?" Thank God he hadn't visited often when she was a child.

Hubert's wide eyes stared at her for a moment. "Captain Jandeau is most efficient at dealing with misdeeds on his ship."

So the crew knew her father as Jandeau, not Captain Lemaire of the French Navy. He truly had become a pirate.

Tessa whirled around and grabbed her thick woolen cloak, throwing it over her shoulders as she strode to the door. "You will give me a tour of this ship, Hubert Lautrec."

"I cannot let you leave this cabin." He ran to intercept her at the door, barring it with his scrawny body.

Tessa stood tall, looking down her nose in the offended way her mother had perfected when dealing with those who tried to walk over her. And the presence of Eagan just feet away bolstered her rashness.

"Will you wrestle me to the bed, Hubert? Strike me to stop me from leaving this cabin?"

He blanched, blinking rapidly. "God help me, no! The captain would cut off my hands and then my arms and then throw me overboard tied to a cannonball."

Tessa wondered what type of nightmares Hubert had.

"Since you won't tell me where the children are located, I will find them myself," she said, "and if you try to stop me, it will be my word against yours when my father asks what happened." Her stare bored into the man, and his face reddened.

"In the storm? You could be swept overboard."

"I'm assuming they are being held below deck."

When she yanked the door open, Hubert's hands went to grab her arm, but he stopped himself.

If anyone touches ye, I'll kill them. Eagan's words during the night as they made their plans filtered through her mind.

"If you want to live, Hubert, don't touch me," she said, staring him hard in the eyes. Eagan had a sharp blade ready. She could feel his readiness behind her, feel his gaze taking in every movement.

Hubert swore under his breath and followed her into the narrow corridor. The wind whistled, and Tessa's heart thumped hard. Moisture hung heavy in the air and dripped between the floorboards overhead.

"Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle Claudette," Hubert called as he ran after her. "Let me lead you about else you fall into someplace dangerous."

"And my father will cut off some body part of yours."

"Most definitely," he said with exasperation.

"Show me to the galley first," she said, fingering the full linen packet that she'd slipped into her pocket.

She kept her eyes and ears open for any sounds of the children, although the storm howled loudly above. She lifted both hands, palms out flat on either side of her, to keep herself from falling into the corridor walls as the ship tossed.

If she thought about the perils of drowning, trapped inside the small space, she'd either swoon, vomit, or run above deck screaming. She kept her focus firmly on Hubert's bowed shoulders. Behind her somewhere Eagan was sneaking out and down into the bowels of the ship to find Bann, Grace, and Charlotte. She prayed nothing terrible had befallen them yet.

"Where there's life, there's hope." She murmured her mother's favorite saying, her heart clenching.

"Quoi?" Hubert asked.

"Where is the galley?"

"Straight ahead," Hubert said, gesturing to a door at the end of the corridor.

As they entered, warmth hit Tessa's face along with the smell of sage, onion, thyme, and oregano. There was no fire under the small cook stove, and the room had a dank feel to it.

"Pierre," Hubert called, and a large man emerged from another doorway. His stomach hung over his tied trews, and many stains dotted his tunic. His face had a greenish tinge, and his brows were furrowed.

"No hot food on a day like this. Too dangerous for a fire."

"Uhhh…" Hubert stammered.

Tessa ploughed ahead. "I am Captain Jandeau's daughter, Mademoiselle Claudette. I asked Hubert to show me the galley."

The man's small eyes narrowed until they were slits. "Your breakfast not to your liking, Mademoiselle?"

"Oh, 'tis fine, thank you. I needed to get out of my cabin. The rocking of the ship is making me queasy."

"Pierre knows about motion sickness," Hubert said.

Pierre grunted. "Hold your foking tongue."

"I have some ginger that will help your stomach. I can add it to the stew for the crew." She nodded to the pot over the cold hearth.

The cook frowned. "I have no need."

"Have the children been fed this morn?" she asked, and Hubert choked, coughing into his fist.

Pierre looked at him and then back at Tessa. "Everyone on board is given bread and cheese when the weather is foul."

What a frustrating non-answer. Tessa moved over to the unlit hearth and sniffed the open pot that seemed to be waiting for a time when it could be heated. It was some sort of meat stew and there was another pot of grain in water.

"Mmmm…" She filled her inhale and released a mellow song she used to sing in the nursery at court. The notes ebbed and flowed around the brief tale of a boy longing to eat sweets instead of meat. From the silence behind her, the song was having the same effect on the gruff cook as it had on the unruly children. It caught their attention, tangling it in the ribbon of notes.

Using her body as a shield, Tessa leaned over the stew pot, continuing the pleasant notes of the song. She flicked the pouch to dump the contents into the aromatic meal. It wasn't poison to kill, but it would make the crew sleepy or ill after they ate. Hopefully, they'd be too hungry to notice anything different with the bitter flavor of the herb mixture. And any spirits would accentuate the effects. She tucked the pouch through the pocket hole in her skirts and ended the song.

Two heartbeats later, Pierre grabbed her arm, whirling her around. "I don't like people nosing around my galley, even if they do sing like a bloody bird."

Using all her imperial training from her time avoiding grabbing hands at the French court, Tessa looked pointedly down at his hand. "I understand my father cuts off the body part that touches what is his, which includes me, his daughter." She let her gaze slide back up to Pierre's red eyes. "How good a cook will you be without your right hand, Monsieur?"

His fingers snapped open as if she were a blazing hot pot. "The cook is the most important crewmember. If I can't cook, no one eats."

She sniffed disdainfully and walked back to the door, hiding the fact that her heart hammered. "I know the correct way to season a stew, Pierre, and I'll need a task on board. What better place than the galley for me?" She tossed him a knowing smile as she stepped out into the cold, dark corridor. As she shut the door behind her, she let out a long breath, sucking in more quickly to calm her pulse.

With rabbit-like agility, Hubert moved around her in the corridor without touching her. "You sing like a nightingale, Lady Claudette."

"One uses the weapons one has," she murmured more to herself than to Hubert.

Tessa followed slowly, letting the spry man move forward, increasing his distance. She passed one open hatch where the sounds of snoring rose. Tessa slowed as she neared another hatch that sat silent and open a crack, unlike when she'd first passed it. 'Twas Eagan's signal that he'd gone down it.

Without hesitation, she descended, the sound of her petticoat unnoticed with the surging of the wind and sea around the ship. One small lantern hung encased in glass, a bucket of water below it and a crewmember sleeping right beside it, sleeping or unconscious.

Tessa stepped around cannonballs stacked in pyramids about the room.

"Mademoiselle!" Hubert called from above, making her move quickly through an opening into another room full of barrels. The acrid smell of gunpowder tickled her nose, and she held a finger under it to stop the sneeze.

Mon Dieu! How many ways could one be killed on a war ship?

Another hatch was open with a ladder that led down into the dark. Tessa knelt beside it, peering down. A few portholes sat in the walls, but they were at the waterline and showed only gray sea. Tessa took another swaying glass lantern off a hook and swung the lantern down in the hole. A few empty hammocks swung over more barrels. No men.

"Bloody hell," Hubert murmured behind her as she quickly stepped down the ladder, her boots finding the rungs. The ship tipped first one way and then the other, nearly throwing her from the ladder, but she held tight with her one hand, squeezing her eyes shut until she was flung back to the ladder.

When she got to the bottom, Hubert nearly jumped down. "Which way to the children?"

His eyes flitted to a door behind her, but he shook his head, pursing his lips shut as if nothing would pry them open. She didn't need him to speak with words when he gave everything away with his glances. Foolish man. She briefly wondered if her father assigned him to Tessa in order to catch her mutiny.

Tessa strode to the door, pushing it open, and stepped through. The foul odor of human waste and vomit assailed her. Still holding firmly to the door jamb so as not to fall from the pitching floor, she raised the lantern higher until the light penetrated the darkness. Amongst more barrels, a square area was surrounded by iron bars. A dark form moved inside.

"Charlotte?" Tessa asked. She glanced around the dark interior but didn't see Eagan. Inside a barred cell, two people stood covered together with a blanket. A third pushed his head up from a blanket on the floor. Three pale faces looked out with wide dark eyes.

"Tessa." Charlotte's voice was full of hope.

"Mon Dieu," Tessa whispered, rushing toward the bars. She blinked past tears she knew she couldn't stop and grabbed the bars. "Bann and Grace, too?"

Grace's little hand caught hers at the bars. "Eagan was—"

"Shhh," Charlotte said, her gaze going over Tessa's toward the ladder where Hubert stood.

Bann moaned softly from his corner. "The boat won't stop moving," he said and exhaled in a sigh that, considering the circumstances, was not exaggerated in the least.

"Has anyone…hurt you?" Tessa asked.

Charlotte met her eyes, latching onto Tessa's hand, her cold fingers desperate. "Nay, but there were plenty of threats."

"They took us," Grace said, "from the isle." The lantern showed tear streaks down her dirty face.

"I am so sorry, sweet," Tessa whispered. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"Impossible," Hubert said behind her.

Without letting go of the child's clinging hand, Tessa snapped her face to the man who hovered behind her. His eyes were nearly as large as Grace's as he stared into them even though he hopped nervously from side to side as if dodging gunfire.

"And you, Hubert, are going to help us get safely off this ship."

He was already shaking his head. "He'll kill me most foul."

Behind Hubert, out of the shadows, a form rose like a grim reaper, standing a foot taller than the man.

Tessa held up a hand to still Eagan, and she spoke to Hubert. "If you help us, you can come away from the Bourreau . Leave this terrible life that torments you with nightmares."

The man rubbed his forehead, probably reliving one of those nighttime episodes. He swallowed hard. "I knew you'd be trouble," he mumbled.

"Much more than trouble if I tell my father you touched me."

He gasped. "He'll cut off my jack."

"Orrrrr," she drew out, "you can come with us if you help us off this ship. You can sail on a ship where they don't sell children or rape, a place you don't need to fear the captain."

Hubert licked his dry lips. "And you can get me on one?"

"Of course. The Macquaries have ships, as do their friends. So, what is it, Hubert? Your jack sliced off and death in the dark, cold sea, or life away from here?"

"I…" He nodded rapidly like a pecking bird. "I will help you and go to another ship."

"What a wise decision," Eagan said, stepping out of the shadows.